


Beef Stew

by Middle_Earth_Mama



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Asshole Thranduil, Deliberate Badfic, Hilarious, Humor, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Ridiculous, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, fart jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Middle_Earth_Mama/pseuds/Middle_Earth_Mama
Summary: Stupid comedy for the sake of stupid comedy. Legolas and Tauriel witness the orc army headed straight for Erebor. Will Thranduil be convinced to fight? Will Azog and his son Bolg- son? Brother? Whatever. Succeed in ending the line of Durin? Will there be an end to the ridiculous fart jokes? Probably not. Read on!





	Beef Stew

**Author's Note:**

> This is silly immature comedy, for the sake of silly immature comedy. Period. Do not read if you're easily offended.

Legolas and Tauriel surveyed the barren land from their perch upon a cliff. Smoke unfurled from the mountain in the distance, looking like gnarled fingers reaching up into the twilight sky. At the base of the mountain, orcs poured from the open cavern. Tauriel's breath caught as she watched the vast numbers of soldiers exit the rock structure, seemingly infinite. They would soon be heading off to Erebor to assist in Azog's plan to end the line of Durin.

The wind suddenly shifted direction, blowing her hair over her face. She scrambled to pull the fiery locks from her eyes. Then, getting a whiff of the wind, she gave Legolas a scathing look. “What in the name of the Valar is that smell?”

Legolas looked back at her with deep concern in his icy blue eyes.  
“Beef stew, Tauriel. Beef Stew.” 

With the change in the wind, Tauriel was not the only one at the mercy of the stench of the elvish prince. The orcs picked up their pace, scrambling to exit their mountain in earnest. Tauriel watched as many wretched onto the rocky ground, while others nearly crawled in their attempt to escape the horrible fumes. 

“My lord Legolas, I had no idea you harbored such.....potency,” Tauriel commented, her face pinched up in distaste.  
“Yes Tauriel. It has always been a strength of mine.”

Tauriel tried to rearrange her expression to one fitting of the captain of the guard. Then, after gagging for the third time in thirty seconds, she gave up. “Perhaps we should move upwind,” she suggested.  
“Yes. That would be wise.” 

The two elves scrambled down the cliff side, tripping in a most un-elvish way in their haste to find fresh air.

* * *  
Back in Erebor......

Golden light from the torches on the wall reflected in Thorin's amazing blue eyes. Bilbo looked up questioningly as Thorin held the mithril armor reverently in front of him. He slowly turned to face Bilbo and lifted it up to help him into it. Bilbo looked around at the dwarf company surrounding him. Every face was full of admiration as they gazed upon the two in front of them. 

Except for Fili and Kili. They were groping each other behind a pillar. 

Bilbo knew he must be missing some imperative detail. He considered the dwarf king in front of him and looked up at him in question. Thorin stood there and just looked regal. And majestic. As he was wont to do.

Thorin regarded the hobbit in front of him and kept his face as neutral as possible. His eyes betrayed nothing. He kept his gaze professional. His lips were a thin line and any regarding him might assume him upset or irritated. Thorin, however, was neither of these things. The only thing on his mind was Bilbo Baggin's sweet hobbit ass. As soon as he had the mithril shirt deposited on Bilbo's person, he barked at the other dwarves. “Back to work! Find the Arkenstone!”

Thorin looked at Bilbo with a hungry gaze in his eyes. As soon as the other dwarves were out of sight, he grabbed Bilbo and pinned him up against a wall. “Thorin, aren't we about to be attacked by an army of angry elves and men?” he asked quietly. “Yes,” the dwarf king responded, “but I just gotta get up in that sweet hobbit ass.” Bilbo nodded his head in understanding. “Well alright then. Proceed. We’ll worry about impending doom when it's more convenient.” Thorin smiled. “I knew you would understand.”

Bilbo looked at him questioningly. “So, do you have any oil?”  
“Oh no,” Thorin responded, “I figured I'd just force it up in there.”  
“Oh well, alright, I see no way that could backfire on either of us. Probably I'll just groan in enthusiasm with no resulting injury.”  
“Once again, my dear hobbit, I knew you would get it.”

* * *

Tauriel and Legolas finally made their way into the ruins that were once the city of Dale. The broken buildings held distant memories of fire and grief in their wake. They passed empty homes and stores, long abandoned since the dragon had claimed the land. They made their way to the make-shift camp the men had put together and sought out King Thranduil. They found him in a large tent, guarded by two elves and two men. A man's raised voice carried from the door. 

“Ah. Bard must be trying to reason with my stubborn sexy dad,” Legolas commented.  
“Well, he won't get far. Your father is not one to see reason,” came Tauriel's curt reply, “let's go see what we can do to help.” She sighed and followed Legolas into the tent. 

Bard was to the left of the door, pacing back and forth wringing his hands in frustration as he addressed the elvin king with growing ire. Thranduil sat to the right on a most impressive throne. Don't ask how it got there, because nobody could say. He was primping his long white locks while gazing longingly into a hand mirror. 

“Father?” Legolas interrupted the one sided conversation.

Thranduil exhaled an exaggerated sigh at his sons voice. “Gah, what now Legolas?” he asked impatiently. 

“Tauriel and I discovered a large orc army, headed straight for us. They will arrive by sundown.” Thranduil threw his head back against his throne and groaned in frustration. “But we JUST got here! I guess we can pack up and leave now, but traveling makes my skin so dry! Can't they come tomorrow?” he whined.

Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance at his father's idiocy. “Ok, I'll just go find the blood-thirsty orc army and ask them if they will pretty please slow down so you can get a good rest before you have to relocate yourself again. You're right, they'll understand, it's too soon for you to travel again, without even a good nights rest.”

Thranduil sighed in relief. “Gods, that's all I ask! Thank you Legolas, I guess you're not entirely worthless.”  
“No. Dad, the orcs are coming now. I was being sarcastic! Jesus Christ, you are so dumb!” Legolas threw up his hands and stalked to the other side of the room with Bard to try to regain his composure. 

Tauriel decided to try to get through to the king. “My lord, I believe we are in a favorable position to assist the dwarves and men with their impending battle with the orc army. Now is not the time to leave, now is the time to stand and fight!”

Thranduil shook his head, “Ah, Tauriel, you are just a stupid female. What could you possibly know about... well... much of anything really?” He chuckled a little and regarded her with an amused smile. “Tauriel, tell me, do you think I'm pretty?”

Tauriel grabbed the elf king by the front of his robes, pulling her fist back and socked him right in the nose. Legolas and Bard ran to pull her off of him before she destroyed everything the elf king lived for. Legolas grabbed Tauriel by the arms and held her back as Bard held the elf king up so he wouldn't slump over in his desperate attempt to make sure not to bleed on his silver robes of silk. 

“Bard,” Thranduil sobbed pitifully as he reclaimed his seat, “you think I'm pretty, don't you?”  
Bard looked at him uneasily, “Um, well,” he looked up at Legolas, who nodded at him pointedly. Bard sighed and looked back at Thranduil in defeat. “Yes, your majesty. You are very pretty.”

Thranduil flipped his hair and gazed majestically at the ceiling. “Yes I know. Now find my mirror.” 

Bard scrubbed his hands over his eyes in annoyance. “King Thranduil, we must hear your decision. Will you aid us in defending ourselves against the attack of the orc army?”

Thranduil looked at Bard, confused. “What orc army?” Legolas tightened his grip on Tauriel as she tried to lunge for the king's face again. “The one that is heading straight for us at this very moment,” Bard declared, as calmly as he could manage. 

Thranduil sighed audibly again. “Fine,” he drawled out, obviously bored by the evenings topic, “but I will not be joining in battle. It makes my hair all frizzy.”

A collective sigh rang through the tent. Suddenly Bard and Tauriel both flung their hands to their noses. Tauriel looked at Legolas in disbelief. “Really?”  
Legolas had the good grace to look apologetic. “Yea. Sorry.”

 

* * *

The orc army arrived at sundown, just as Tauriel and Legolas had estimated. Thankfully, because of the forewarning, everyone else was prepared. Half the army of dwarves, men, and elves stood at the gates of Erebor, ready to defend them from the beasts. The other half waited over a nearby ridge to take the orcs by surprise. King Thorin stood at the front of the lines surrounding his mountain, his loyal company surrounding him. Bilbo stood next to him, much to the king's dismay.

“I still don't see why you insist on being present for the battle,” Thorin shot at the hobbit.  
“Don't shoot at me! I have every right to assist as much as I am capable,” the hobbit shot back.  
“Seriously, if you don't want me to shoot at you, you can't very well shoot back at me,” Thorin shot again.  
“This is ridiculous. I'm going to go find my own scene without you in it if you insist on this nonsense.”  
“No, no Bilbo, I'm sorry. Please don't go anywhere,” Thorin pleaded.  
“Alright, yes, yes, I'll stay here.”

The battle began epically. Many died, except of course for any main characters because that would be devastating. As the orcs began overtaking the army in front of them, the other army came charging in from the side, taking the advantage.

Azog swung his clawed arm out, blasting an elf from his path. He looked over at his son Bolg. Son? Brother? Whatever, doesn't matter. Bolg nodded back at him as the two of them continued to search the messy battle before them for the dwarf king. 

Thorin spotted them first. Flanked by his heirs, Fili and Kili, who were making eyes at each-other behind his back, he strode towards Azog and Bolg. His cloak billowed behind him, his hair whipping majestically in the wind. The sun met the horizon directly behind him, crowning his head in a halo of golden light. Majestically. He was all brooding and majestic and kingly. 

Azog strode dramatically towards the dwarf king, Bolg directly to his right, looking all menacing and shit. “Dwarf scum!” he spat at Thorin as he approached. Azog pointed his blade at Thorin. “Oakenshield. You're mine!” Fili and Kili chuckled behind Thorin.  
“OOOOOooooo, sounds like a declaration of love to me,” Kili cooed.  
“I think he laid claim to you,” Fili agreed.  
“Silence, you idiots,” Thorin brooded majestically. Fili and Kili shrugged and continued making out off screen. 

Thorin strode forward to take Azog on. “Hey wait, dude, Azog, do you have a boner right now?”  
Azog looked ashamed, “Yes, well, that's none of your concern. I'm really excited this moment has finally come, ok?”  
“It is kind of my concern if I am to get anywhere near you so that I might kill you.”  
“Look, I'm sorry man, you're just so majestic.”  
Thorin contemplated this for a moment. “Alright, I can ignore it.” He reached over to his hip to draw his weapon and pulled out a giant 18” flopping dildo.  
“What the fuck, Thorin?!” Azog roared.  
Thorin dropped his head into his other hand. “I forgot that was in there.”

Just then, Bilbo jumped out from behind Azog and stabbed him in the heart. Thorin looked actually pretty pissed. “Bilbo you robbed me of my moment!”  
“Come now Thorin, we all knew if I left you to fight him you'd get cocky and ultimately find yourself bleeding out in my lap.”  
Thorin nodded in agreement and sheathed his.... weapon. “Very well. Let's go back to the mountain. I feel a need for that sweet hobbit ass.” 

The End


End file.
